My husband's poetry

Category: Death & Afterlife

  • For a friend

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    For a moment, I thought I saw you in the grocery store parking lot getting out of your car. You turned and smiled. I started to call out your name, when I remembered you’ve been gone over a year and I don’t believe in ghosts (not even the friendly kind). But for moment, I thought…

  • Augury

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    Because there are no worms or flies this time of year, I will not begrudge a murder of crows a careless squirrel, lying dead in the road. Every once in awhile an easy meal’s okay. Maybe they’ll be more cautious than roadkill squirrels and won’t adorn a grille 1-18-23

  • Loving a rescue dog

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Love lived in dog years ends Before you are ready for it to end So you foster another dog Try to break bad habits Their previous owners couldn’t You use a kennel, put them on a diet and Maybe it works But still, love lived in dog years ends Before you are ready for it…

  • Deep in the Detritus

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Do you think the caterpillar in its cocoon upon the forest floor looked forward to being reborn with wings and sipping nectar through its nose. I much prefer their second life, but I cannot speak for them. 2-11-23

  • Tippy

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    When mom fell at home and broke her leg, she was moved to a rehab facility. We knew at 92 she’d never return home and suspect dad knew, too. He insisted we move them into a facility where he lived on one floor and mom on another. Their little dog, Tippy, went to live with…

  • Locked knees

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    When our father died Masonic members of the Scottish Rite came and performed final rites at his viewing. They marched to and fro in their regalia, spoke sacred vows before his open casket. The next morning, before his last ride, his preacher preached a sermon. A military detail came to the gravesite, performed a twenty-one…

  • Holy Land

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    What makes a holy land: hardships, death or war? All is martyrdom. What makes a holy land: blood shed, torture or prison? All is a refugee camp. What makes a holy land: wilderness treks, epic eulogies and myths? All is mud untamed. What makes a holy land? It is living, loving and generations born? It…

  • Graveside manners

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    I still carry my father’s casket, Holding onto the side rail As we pull him from the hearse, Unable to release my grip And say goodbye. I have questions in need of answers And he still won’t give them up, Even in death. I still carry my father’s casket Hoping he answers – just once.…

  • Inevitably

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    by

    cfblack
    in

    Do not talk to me of fear of death for it comes inevitably It gathers us up and leaves us on a strange porch Orphans in a basket waiting to be welcomed into another home I do not dread its coming I leave my door ajar Ready for this new adventure I hope I’ve packed…

  • This is how it ends

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    like storm litter on the ground you’ll give up trying to hang on wind will push you from your perch someone will come and haul you away maybe you’ll rot in a landfill maybe you’ll ascend In fire pit smoke either way, when your time comes you’ll release your grip and flee 5-1-23